Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Roll call

There are those who write their name on a list
but when the roll is called they do not come

Many buy a stereo, and a tune to play, or two
but the music remains boxed, never making a sound

Profession of love for the gray of rain
resounds from beneath the dry overhang

And love, that's what you called it, eh?
You summoned it sweetly, but then you hid your face

Run through the rain, let it melt your painted face
Sing a sweet song, sing it, whatever its name

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